The sentence completes its signification only with its last term.
Writings scatter to the winds blank checks in an insane charge. And were they not such flying leaves, there would be no purloined letters.
The best image to sum up the unconscious is Baltimore in the early morning.
The only thing of which one can be guilty is of having given ground relative to one's desire.
What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe?
For the signifier is a unit in its very uniqueness, being by nature symbol only of an absence.